


for every kiss you give me, I'll give you three

by alharper



Series: i'll make you happy, just wait and see [2]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breeding, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, OOC, PWP, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Warcraft Kink Meme, sex in worgen form
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 20:36:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15937811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alharper/pseuds/alharper
Summary: Over the last few years since his presentation, it had happened more than once that Genn would turn automatically towards the subtle sweetening of the air to find Anduin focused directly on him, silent and intense, until someone drew him away - his father, while he was still alive, and these days usually Mathias Shaw, materializing out of nowhere to catch Anduin’s elbow, firm and apologetic.





	for every kiss you give me, I'll give you three

**Author's Note:**

> my best friend looked me dead in the eye and said 'you've gone full furry for Genn', so this story _haunts me_.
> 
> unbetaed, sequel to 'lucky for you (i got all these daddy issues)'. it's probably not strictly necessary to read one to understand the other, but they're the same sort of thing. These are my first attempt at really leaning into the whole 'daddy kink' thing, and I'm not sure about it, but: enjoy :D?

Over the last few years since his presentation, it had happened more than once that Genn would turn automatically towards the subtle sweetening of the air to find Anduin focused directly on him, silent and intense, until someone drew him away - his father, while he was still alive, and these days usually Mathias Shaw, materializing out of nowhere to catch Anduin’s elbow, firm and apologetic.

“I see,” Anduin says each time, not looking away from Genn, “if you would keep court for me, I'm afraid I need be excused, your highness. I’ll see you in a few days, I’m sure.”

He would bow, and say “of course, your majesty.” He would also spend the late evening dwelling on versions of events in which Mathias had been late, leaving Anduin to ripen entirely and act as his hormones bid him - or perhaps his intellect. Though clearly more fantasy than the former scenario, Genn found it easy enough to imagine.

“We cannot afford to have me incapacitated for so long, and there are none other I trust enough to assist in resolving the situation,” said in that grave, delicate way he had around such matters.

Or perhaps simply a gradual escalation - staring becoming a casual touch to the arm, leaning in close so he would drown in that cloying scent, the depth of those lust-dark eyes. Until he would have to tell him, “retire or don’t, but decide quickly, for I am not made of stone, Anduin.”

Genn had never taken it personally, though - biology could be a harsh mistress, and what behaviors might peek through as they played with the razor-blade edge of heat the way that necessity forced on them was no more than that: biology. While he was far from the only alpha nearby, he was one of the few that had not known Anduin particularly well until he'd been much closer to a young man than a child.

So discovering it was personal had been - was still - a genuine delight. He has some moments of guilt, of course, but only distantly. If a beautiful young omega wished to take him to his bed, why would he be anything but grateful? It has had very close to zero effect on how they relate to each other outside of the bedroom; if it has changed either of them, it's only on Genn’s own part.

It's testament to his strength of character that Anduin had grown into such a good-natured, responsible young man when his position as crown prince had put him in the path of a large number of alphas, both in and out of Stormwind, none of whom seemed to quite know how to refuse him anything.

Genn is no different, and never was - so what difference there may be now is only slight, hardly enough to notice or remark upon. Anduin himself remains confident in his decisions, and while he turns to Genn as a trusted adviser, this is something he’s done for some time now. And not to him alone, nor anything more than that.

No - there’s a very sharp delineation between Anduin, the solemn and self-possessed young King and Anduin, the sweet boy who rides his cock with desperate and shameless abandon, who yearns for his approval.

The first time he'd praised him outright in the bedroom was only the second time they'd engaged in anything… untoward.

Anduin had been delightfully nervous all evening, clearly hopeful, while Genn indulged himself in the flattering attention.

When he'd relented - had sat back from the table and pat one knee, raised an eyebrow, and received an enthusiastic lap-full of Anduin - it had been largely to cover that he could no longer stand to keep hands from him. 

He put Anduin’s arms about his neck and kissed him, stroking a thumb over the point of his hip until Anduin had relaxed into it, seeking nothing more than those kisses, almost punchy with it.

“Did you have plans, dearest?”

“I'd have something I'd like to try, if you're not averse,” Anduin tells him, fingers ghosting over the front of his trousers.

“I'm certain I won't be,” Genn tells him, droll, and Anduin rewards him with a brilliant smile before leading him through to the bedroom.

He's so sure in every other part of his life that the shy, hesitant way he has about him here becomes heady, makes him feel powerful, protective. The surprising habit he’d developed of referring to Genn as his daddy just in these private, intimate moments had only intensified already-present desire.

A gentle flush rolls across his cheeks as he sits Genn down on the edge of the bed, and kneels between his knees on the floor.

“Anduin,” he says in surprise, and Anduin shakes his head.

“I'm your boy,” he corrects him. “While you're here. If - that is -”

“You are always my dear, sweet boy,” Genn says, and reaches forward to cradle Anduin’s face between his hands, “regardless of what we might be doing.”

Anduin turns his head to kiss his palm, says “will you let me please you, daddy?”

Light; was there anything on Azeroth that could hope to be as erotic as this? He draws Genn from his trousers and rubs his cheek against his cock in the same sweet, affectionate way he’ll sometimes press their faces together - one of the few omegan habits he seems both aware and freely indulgent of.

For a boy he's sure has no prior experience, Anduin approaches the endeavor with studied care. Genn is really too large for this sort of thing to be undertaken with any comfort, for the most part. He had always been… endowed, even for an alpha, and the virus has some changes even outside of the wolf-man form.

But Anduin commits gamely, takes the head into his mouth and sucks at it messily, working the rest of Genn’s cock with his hands.

His hot, wet mouth is a delight, almost as much as the gentle flutter of his eyelashes against flushed cheeks, and the greedy little noises he slowly manages to take more and more in until he's completely filled his mouth, head of his cock rubbing at the back of his throat.

Genn strokes his face, and when he runs one finger along his lower lip, pulled tight, Anduin opens his eyes to look up at him.

His eyes are starting to water with his mouth so stretched out, and he moves a hand away to open his trousers. He moans around Genn when he gets a hand on himself.

“There's my good boy,” Genn rumbles affectionately, and repeats it when Anduin pants around his cock, closes his eyes and redoubles his efforts, sloppy and loud. “My very good boy.” The hard rhythm Anduin set himself stutters to an abrupt stop as he comes abruptly all over his hand, and though he’d initially been a little embarrassed by it, Genn reassures him quickly enough, pulls Anduin into his lap to let him curl against his chest, hide his face while he processes it.

“My dear,” he murmurs, stroking his hair, “my sweet boy. You must know you're better than any of us could have hoped.”

Anduin says something unintelligible, wet against his chest, and when Genn takes him he's gratifyingly clingy, rubbing his face against Genn’s beard until their scents mingle for hours and the delicate skin along his jaw smarts red from the burn.

Nobody had really been able to claim surprise when Anduin had finally presented at 16 as an omega. Not when even Garrosh Hellscream had reacted with textbook Alpha fascination to those big blue eyes and serious young voice.

He’d spoken with Varian about it at the time - neither of his children had been of that dynamic, and while there were some similarities across all of the human kingdoms, the differences could be both unexpected and stark. Better to know what it would mean for the succession sooner than to get a rude surprise later.

“He can always marry a beta woman, if he's so inclined.” Varian looked thoughtful, if a little sad. “I'd like him to experience that partnership, but I'll not force him into anything.”

“Stormwind takes no issue with bastards?”

Varian was surprised by the question, then considering. “No, we do - but children of an omegan king would only be bastards if someone else bore them, or the king were married and the child fathered by another. A double standard, I suppose. But many alphas don't have the strength to bow to an omega at all, let alone one they’ve claimed, and I come from a long line of only children, so allowances needed to be made at some point.”

“It doesn't seem like a bad system,” Genn offered. “A consort neatly solves a lot of potential issues.”

“I just want him to be happy,” Varian said grimly. “The rest of it can go hang.”

The specter of his wife was heavier over him some days than others, and from the few portraits that had stayed about the place, even Genn could tell that Anduin was growing to look more like his mother every day.

Genn’s own presentation had been similar, if at the other end of the spectrum. The first time his mother had rolled her eyes and him and sighed _alphas_ , he had been eight years old - a full decade before he woke in the middle of the night in a wild-eyed rut, pheromones rolling off him like mist. His own parents had had concerns of their own; while the nature of alphahood was generally considered a positive in many respects, Gilneans traditionally held some nervousness around the volatility of the dynamic in a leadership position. When Liam had remained a beta into adulthood, it had been to the relief of more than one party.

Any doubt that Genn may have harbored about his effectiveness as a leader was easily handled by seeing how confidently he had disagreed with his father, even as a newly presented omega. He's effortless, a natural-born leader in ways that Genn had had to learn, is still learning.

Genn knew very well that Anduin’s father had had several quiet, serious conversations about how best to navigate the effect he had on those around him, because he’d conferred with Varian on it himself more than once. But there was only so much he could compensate for it now, given the desperate situation - even months apart, they could ill afford to lose him for the days of his active heat, let alone the days around it when his scent curled sweetly around the room, pulling slow-witted congeniality from even the most unlikely sources.

This time, somewhat unsurprisingly, has gone somewhat differently. His heats are far more predictable in their cycle now, though Genn had politely tried to avoid tracking it too closely and so was not quite correct in the timing. So when Shaw steps through a portal one morning he's surprised, and then relieved. The thin skin beneath Anduin’s eyes has been getting progressively darker - regardless of any other concerns the deep, hormone-induced sleep that Anduin get on the other side of his heat will do him a world of good.

Anduin speaks to Shaw only briefly before he returns to Kul Tiras - and Genn doesn’t fail to mark the speculative look he throws Genn’s way as he leaves.

“I hope I'll see you this evening for dinner,” Anduin tells Genn quietly, with only the slightest hint of trepidation - still more than he would typically display when not safely behind the closed doors of his own chambers.

“Of course, your majesty,” he replies with a bow, and is rewarded with the flash of a very sweet smile, and the barest hint of sweetness in the air as Anduin passes him.

He takes over as needed during the afternoon - they're fortunate in that Anduin won't enter full heat until mid evening, but it's better for everyone’s nerves if he absences himself by the middle of the day, and they're doubly fortunate in there being nothing so pressing he can't do so on this occasion. It's the first he's been able to for a while.

Besides which, if this goes the way Genn hopes, not only will he be fit for company by mid-morning tomorrow, it will be some time before the issue arises again.

He thinks of Anduin’s regal, poised bearing on the throne as he dresses down that evening, changing coat, cravat and gloves for the more simple, informal button-up that Anduin seems to favor him in. Specifically, he thinks of that bearing as seen above a belly swollen with life created from his seed. The future feels brighter than it has in some time.

It's earlier than he would usually appear for dinner, but the first he could conceivably slip away, but when he knocks politely at Anduin’s door, calls gently through to announce himself, the royal guard remain politely blank faced. There's no way they aren't aware of the goings-on of this room, at least in broad strokes, but greeting him unchallenged on the cusp of his heat can only mean that Anduin has directly instructed them to let him pass.

“Enter,” Anduin calls, and so he does.

He stands by the door to the bedroom, looking - and smelling - sweet and ripe as a peach. Color dusts his cheeks and his lips are reddened, as though he's been catching them in his teeth. The pink tip of his tongue flashes out to wet them before he speaks.

“You came,” he says as the door closes behind them. Anduin is touching himself as though unaware he's doing it, running the fingers of one hand back and forth along his other arm absently. His pupils are blown wide, making his usually bright eyes arrestingly dark. “I had hoped you would.”

“My boy, where else would I be?” Genn replies, and locks the door behind him. The King’s personal guards are chosen for their discretion as much as their skill, and since Anduin’s early teens have been beta to a man, but sometimes the best precautions are the simplest - and beyond that, he has no intention of allowing interruptions this evening.

He can see the table here already laden with an assortment of easy foods, chosen for what will keep over the course of the evening. At some point he will hold Anduin fast on his lap and the boy will feed Genn with his fingers, sleepy and flushed. He looks forward to it.

“You're of course under no obligation -” Anduin’s cheeks are flushed, and the way he's speaking is increasingly studied, as though every word has to be drawn forth with immense concentration. A fine tremor runs through his hand as he notices his own movements, and moves to clasp his wrist instead.

“I still don’t understand your fear I might be compelled by duty,” Genn tells him, and he's momentarily disconcerted by how open the affection in his voice is but Anduin responds to it like a flower to sunlight - face turned and radiant towards him.

Anduin doesn't seem to know quite what to do with himself, swaying back and forth on the spot, and Genn can sympathize; it becomes increasingly impossible to recognize rational thought when one is so hormone addled. 

Genn neatly solves the issue for him by crossing the room himself, picking Anduin up and securing the boys legs about his waist.

Anduin buries his face in Genn’s neck, tugs immediately at his shirt to get his bare hands against skin. He sighs at the contact, tight wound strain draining noticeably as he relaxes into Genn’s hold. His erection is hard line against Genn’s belly, almost as insistent as the scent that curls around them both, heavy in the air.

“Shall we retire?” he asks, and Anduin doesn't answer, just rubs his cheek against Genn’s and pushes into him. “Won't you kiss me?” he asks more softly, entreating, and Anduin obliges immediately, arms crossed behind Genn’s neck and greedy little noises from his mouth as he sucks on Genn’s tongue, grinds against him like he wants nothing more than to climb inside Genn and stay there, sheltered in the cavity of his chest. There’s an unabashedness to him which is not quite out of character, but is unusual nonetheless, a rare treat.

Genn doesn't ever want to leave him unattended for so long that desperation overtakes him, leaves his calm, thoughtful boy mindless and hedonistic and base, but he can't deny the eroticism of it as the first echoes of that state are taking him, the rapid advancement of unbound heat hurried by the presence of an equally unbound alpha. Anduin is letting out needy little whines in his arms, struggles to hold a conversation and is both too fumbling to undress himself without assistance and too distracted by the need to get Genn’s skin against his own to be helpful in it.

He looks forward to taking Anduin’s cute little cock into his mouth and drawing screams from him, but that will be later.

This is all still surprisingly cogent, given the quick advancement of unbound heat, and Genn doesn’t tease - they’re both more than ready by the time he crosses the threshold to the bedroom, so he wastes no time laying the boy out, stripping him down and giving him what he’s clearly desperate for. Genn’s cock slides home with little work or resistance, and Anduin sighs as though a dull, aching pain has been suddenly relieved.

They move slowly together. That syrupy scent is only thickening in the air around them as Genn indulges in the closeness of it, and he slips a hand beneath Anduin to stroke a firm hand down his back, activate the little glands that pepper his spine.

Anduin arches against the touch, blossoms under his hand in startled delight. He's had little occasion to learn the effect of this sort of touch, the strength of the reassurance that floods his system. He goes sloe-eyed and loud, charming little cries with every roll of their hips.

He moves one of Anduin’s hands from his shoulder to the boy’s cock, drags his thumb over the leaking head a few times before bringing it to his mouth to taste and leaving Anduin to continue building his own pleasure. An orgasm will take the edge off the hormone-induced confusion, and the way it makes him contract, tight and pulsing around Genn’s cock, is something he’s been looking forward to all afternoon.

It doesn't take him long, especially not once Genn returns to petting down his spine stroking small circles just above his tail-bone, and he slows the rhythm they've built between them to a stop to let Anduin breathe through the afterglow, runs a lazy hand over his skin, now glistening with light, fresh sweat, scenting the air around him with satisfaction and desire. He stays buried in him, a faint echo of things to come.

Genn realizes suddenly that he's breathing deeply, pulling that scent into himself. His senses are heightened, honed to an impossibly fine edge, and focused entirely on Anduin - the quick, quiet patter of his breathing, the subtle play of muscle across his chest with every movement.

It's odd to have any sort of first experience at his age, but omegas are rarely their own creatures to the extent Anduin may boast, so the last time he guided someone through their heat was prior to the cataclysm - and prior to the virus that is beginning to push at his senses, called forth by the hormones that his own body is producing in response to Anduin’s call.

He's even guided lovers through heat without knotting before when that was their preference, the comfort and intimate contact enough to keep the experience just this side of the knife-edge of biological drive, but that level of control is beyond him in this case, and fortunately antithetical to the pregnancy they both nominally seek.

But that doesn't mean there aren't drives and urges he does need to keep in hand, and he is troubled by the difficulty already becoming apparent as Anduin stretches lazily beneath him and the phantom pressure of fangs make his tongue feel malformed in his mouth. It will only get worse through the course of the evening. That bottomless hunger is beginning to make itself known, the side effect of rut and his body’s subsequent single-minded determination to produce seed in vast, rapid quantities. If Genn doesn't knot the boy at least three times before the morning, he will be very much surprised.

Anduin shows no sign of turmoil, more alert and seeming pleased with the situation as he scratches his fingers lightly at Genn’s bearded cheeks, putting glancing kisses on his mouth and cheekbones and eyes, little chiming notes of affection.

“Are you all right?” he asks Genn when his face stays tight. “You seem tense.”

“I worry for my control.”

Anduin looks considering. “What if you were to let it go?”

“Then I would no longer be a man,” he reminds him quietly, “there is rather more of me that way, dearest.” The boy just nods.

“I want _all_ of you,” he says firmly, and - well. Genn has turned his mind to it a few times, usually as he approaches the edge of an orgasm he has brought himself, though he’d never have thought to broach it on his own. The boy is developing a real knack for asking of Genn exactly what he desperately wants to give and is far too well-bred to bring himself to offer.

It’s not as though Anduin isn’t more than passingly familiar with the physical reality of Worgen forms in other contexts, having fought beside and healed up plenty of Gilneans afflicted with it, himself very much included. Genn braces his hands further apart on the bed, far enough that he's poised just over him, and drops a kiss onto Anduin’s mouth, just a sweet slide of lips. “If you're sure.”

“I’m sure.” He does in fact seem very certain, and Genn can no more deny him than could any other alpha caught in thrall of that artless sincerity.

He withdraws from Anduin carefully before reaching inside of himself towards that roiling, animalistic self at his core, easing it forward as slowly as he can.

Fur first, as always, bursting out from his skin. It does a little to obscure the rolling malformation as his bones re-form, muscles thickening and bunching to the strange ropiness of a Worgen. Anduin’s increasingly wide-eyed face gets further away as his arms lengthen, and he strokes Genn’s face curiously as his face pulls out into a muzzle, teeth lengthening into fangs, lips tightening to form a harder black line along his mouth.

He licks at Anduin’s fingers with his newly lengthened tongue, and the boy smiles.

It's very difficult to change this slowly, but Genn has had years to learn control. He’s one of only a very few infected who show this much mastery over their alternate form, and he takes pride in it.

His legs are the difficult part, at this speed, changing slightly faster at the ankles than at the hips. Certainly a site easier supported on all fours, he leans forward to take his weight on his forearms as calves and feet lengthen and transform, rolling up his thighs, pelvis cracking as it turns.

Anduin had loosened his tight grip around Genn’s waist, but hooks his legs back over once Genn repositions himself, settles furred knees apart and feet off the edge to keep bedding nominally safe from hard, black claws.

The knowledge of what he intends to do has mostly kept him erect through this process, though flagging somewhat. Genn has seen himself erect in this form, and isn’t sure he wants Anduin to lay eyes before he’s been convinced of it, so he wastes no time lining his hips up to drag the tip against Anduin’s entrance, that glancing pressure enough to return him to a hard enough state to sink back into the willing, wet heat that awaits him.

It’s brighter than the slightly dusky, maroonish color of his human erection & much smoother as well, less pronounced delineation of head. Genn moves slowly - it's not quite the girth of his knot in his human form, but it is dramatically closer to that size than it is to his cock as it was in Anduin minutes ago, and he'd rather like to avoid doing even discomfort to his boy.

Anduin deliberately relaxes beneath him, eyes closed as he breathes out, and Genn’s cock breeches him so suddenly that the careful press is a sliding entry, sees him halfway to seated before he catches himself. He growls, but aimlessly - at himself, at any who might dare enter, a need to express possessiveness and nowhere for it to go. He's his, at least in this moment. The need to claim this boy as his own _burns_ \- makes his fangs ache, his mouth fill with saliva he has to lick from his chops and swallow, again and again.

His claws have popped through the sheet and buried into the mattress, despite their bluntness, and he spares a thought to feel apologetic as he withdraws them carefully to avoid further damage to the bedclothes.

Anduin clutches tight at his upper arms, rolls his head back and groans. His own cock is flushed and leaking against his belly again already.

Genn would like to stroke it, see if he can pull forth that choked off whimper he makes sometimes. But his hands are huge, and claws seem… not ideal, for such an intimate caress.

“Touch yourself for me, dear boy,” he directs, and Anduin does, takes one of the hands he has buried in Genn’s ruff and squeezes his little cock. A faint fluttering of the muscles around Genn’s cock echo Anduin’s appreciation for his own touch, and it's honestly a wonder Genn ever lets the boy leave - let him hold court on Genn’s cock, that he might stay buried in him permanently.

He starts moving and Anduin goes back to touching his face, tracing the line of his snout, the jut of his fangs where they hang over his lips.

“Not intimidated?” he asks, and Anduin shakes his head - then pauses, like he's reconsidering, huffs a small laugh.

“Maybe a little,” he amends. “But it's all you, isn’t it? I meant it when I said I want everything.”

“Greedy boy,” Genn rumbles, amused, and Anduin smiles shyly.

He licks at the dark spots low on his neck, covers them in his saliva that a reaction might start and to ease the worst of that aching need to claim. Anduin shivers beneath him.

He's careful to start, but once Anduin is used to the size, comfortable with it, his hold on self control begins to slip, and he doesn't have what he needs to keep from fucking him apart, hard and urgent and relentless.

For his part Anduin is lost to it, has a hand buried deep in the fur of Genn’s ruff and all but yowling beneath him, writhing for contact as he runs the other hand over himself, begging to be touched, trying to direct Genn in something but too messy and unfocused by the harshness of the fucking he's receiving to ask directly for anything.

It quickly becomes a moot point. The base of Genn’s cock tightens and begins to expand eventually, and he pushes as far into Anduin’s hot, willing hole as he can, crouched over him rumbling as the pleasure of it increases, builds into a hot, sparking desperation. Anduin grunts beneath him, throws his head back and pants, revealing the long, unclaimed column of his throat and Genn loses any grip he might have had.

Genn roars, _howls_ over him as he comes and Anduin looks startled and overwhelmed, mouth open, and a touch of what might be fear even as he follows him in a slick mess over his stomach, throbbing around Genn’s knot.

His expression changes to an endeared softness as Genn pants over him, eyelashes dark smudges as he traces over his face. It seems to be his substitute for kissing, though eventually he does that too, a sweet touch to the side of his muzzle followed by a delicate grimace, picking fur from his tongue. Genn licks a broad stripe up the side of his face, and Anduin snorts.

Genn’s quite sure he’s clearly smitten, looking down at him. The softer emotions typically make him feel awkward, prone to gruffness, not sure how to handle himself when so revealed, but the clear reassurance it brings to Anduin helps tamp it down.

“Will it be longer?” he asks, exploring the bottom of Genn’s knot with gentle, seeking fingers.

“Longer than usual, because you're in heat, but no longer for the form I'm in,” Genn tells him. There's a quietness to these moments as they are tied together, a thoughtful closeness beyond just physical proximity.

“I would have liked siblings,” Anduin says almost absently, and then flushes, looks a little like he regrets saying it.

“I'd encourage you to space them out a little,” Genn replies. “Let your first be well into toddler-hood before you're carrying another babe in arms.”

Anduin’s face turns strangely at that, and Genn is not initially sure what to make of it. “What troubles you, dear boy? There are ways of controlling these things.”

“You'll - you aren't -” he's struggling uncharacteristically, and Genn’s alarm is growing. “There may be better times for this conversation,” he says finally, and understanding comes.

“My dear, sweet boy,” he soothes, and Anduin shivers when Genn’s slides his nose behind his ear, “you think you'll be rid of me that easily?”

The slightly abashed look says that he absolutely thought so, harbored some fear that after their nominal goal of pregnancy was achieved, Genn would step back into the position of adviser, and out of those Anduin had seen fit to christen him with, allowed Genn to mantle himself with that first night - of lover, of caretaker. Daddy to his dear, clever boy.

“There is no role you may have for me which I will not take with pride,” he tells him. “Not one.” They’re still some time to deflation, and they’ll need discuss it further over the course of the evening - ferret out these insecurities and cut them dead at the root, prevent any growth that might crack the foundation of what they are only beginning to build.

Just at this precise moment, Anduin seems reassured enough, and he’s right that this is not the right time for such a conversation. He’s too open, too vulnerable like this to ask that he open himself up any further. So he rubs his nose against Anduin’s neck again, nips gently at his earlobe until he laughs.

For tonight, they have hours before them, and beyond that will be years. Plenty time and space enough to work out the details.


End file.
